


My Heart Chose You

by vriskabby



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Relationship, Alternate Universe - Magic, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, Forbidden Love, I'm Bad At Summaries, M/M, Magic School, Magic-Users, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, plot heavy, this fic is on hiatus!!, will add more tags as this updates!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-06 14:57:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15888351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vriskabby/pseuds/vriskabby
Summary: In which Keith never intended to forge a magical pact with the loud-mouthed, obnoxiously attractive Lance. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.Dazed and confused, Keith lifted himself up by his arms. He was met with parted lips, flushed olive skin, and deep blue eyes all framed by messy brunette hair. Keith felt his breath stolen away, before realizing he was currently pinning this breathtaking sight to the floor in a castle they had broken into.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WOW I'm bad at summaries so here's a little key to help you along: 
> 
> Clerics- Mages that can absorb magical energy and transfer to their partner  
> Paladins- Mages that receive energy from their partner and manipulates it into magic
> 
> So yeah, here's this I guess. Enjoy!

A whimper sounded out from the dark recesses of Keith’s room as his hand hovered over the door handle. Guilt swelled in his chest, and he was unable to face the knowing eyes of his companion as he hesitated.

“Cosmo… It’s alright, buddy. I’ll be back.” He tightened his grip on the sack swung over his shoulder. For the life of him, he hoped it would be soon. “It’s a promise.” The hand on the door steadied, pushing forward. He slowly guided the door shut, taking care not to make excess noise. Shiro’s mom was unlikely to hear him over the boisterous thunder and rain pounding against their small cottage walls, but he wouldn’t chance it.

_Shiro…_

It was just yesterday that he and his brother had been walking the halls of this house together; before _they_ took him away. Keith couldn’t bare it. He had to get Shiro back.

Mud splashed around his feet as he made it outside, rain making quick work of his soft leather boots. He would endure it, even with his only protection against the elements being his favored red jacket. And so, he ran. He hadn’t the time to devise much of a plan, other than simply waltz into Castle of Mages, demanding his brother back. He had been reeling from shock since yesterday.

All the youngest men and women with magical affinities, marked distinctly by their crystallized hearts, were called out of their homes by the Emperor’s Guard; Selection Day, as they called it. Shiro, as with all things, excelled at the tests given to him. He had been training for this day for as long as Keith could remember.  

“Keith, you’re up. You’ll do great, I know it.” Shiro stepped down from the platform, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder. Triumph lifted his face to a smile, and Keith felt overwhelmed with a sense of pride. He watched Shiro as he joined with the other handful of mages who had passed their selection, being guided one by one into a caravan.

“Next.” A dull voice droned, and Keith jumped into attention. The voice belonged to an elderly Altean mage. She sighed, “That means approach, boy.”

Keith bit his lip in momentary embarrassment, before doing as told.

“State your name and classification.” Her directness left him wide-eyed, but he silently reminded himself to stay calm. The Garrison had no need for those who couldn’t keep their composure. Or at least, that’s what Shiro had told him.

“Keith Kogane. I’m a paladin.” Keith stated his facts, but the woman’s stare lingered on his face with narrowed eyes. “...Ma’am.” He added shakily, unsure of what she wanted from him.

“Those markings on your face, they’re… Galra?” Her eyebrows knit together. His hands fidgeted at his sides.

“My… father was human.” He winced at how defensive that sounded. The woman kept her gaze cool, before excusing herself momentarily. Keith cursed himself, turning to search for Shiro’s face amongst the crowd. He was nowhere to be seen. From the corner of his eye, he had spotted a group of wagon’s setting forth for the Castle.

A thunderous clap brought him forth in time, reminding him of his current objective. Keith’s very own crystallized heart hung loosely from his neck, tapping against his chest with every stride forward. A sullen reminder that he was turned away by the Royal Guard, despite the magic blood he carried. He had failed before the test had even begun.  

Making his way toward the village’s stable, he repeated to himself a mantra.

“Hang on, Shiro. I’ll bring you back home.”

Once inside, the musty smell of the animals and the warmth of the lanterns overwhelmed him. He took a moment to breathe, before locating his favorite horse.

“Hey girl,” He cooed to the animal as he rubbed circles on her forehead. “I need your help. We’ll be back before morning, they won’t even know you’re gone.” The words soothed his own nerves more than the horse’s, he realized. He made haste, leading his horse out of the stable without even a saddle.   

His gloved hands gripped the reins as he stared out towards the dark skyline. It would be a few hours ride until he could even see the Castle, but he had no intention of turning back now.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It turned out that his estimation had been a _bit_ off, mostly on account of the fact that he was hopelessly lost. The sky completely clouded over, the stars were nowhere in sight. Shiro had been the one who had mapped them out with Keith late into the night on the roof of their house, telling him the way towards the Castle; their destiny.

Except that it wasn’t _their_ destiny at all. Keith had been turned away for reasons he could never have helped, and Shiro had been swept up from under him before he even knew it. He realized he had been gritting his teeth.

He had no intention of stopping, but his horse seemed to disagree. She began to whinny and pull in the opposite direction, against his guidance. He grew frustrated, before setting his sights on the horse’s true objective. A small village, not unlike his own, began to unfold upon the hill he approached.

“Fine, I guess a quick stop won’t hurt.” He nudged the horse's sides, signaling compliance with her wishes.

Before long, he found himself approaching the outskirts of the village. In the dead of a stormy night like this, he expected not a soul would be outside. His eyes turned toward the charred remains of an old farmhouse. The structure was still intact, if only missing sections of the roof and walls that once completed it.

That was as good of a resting spot as he would find, he guessed.

He unloaded his aching body from the horses back with a graceful swing, nearly collapsing onto the floor in fatigue. He had spent at least six hours on that horse’s back, and now his was killing him. The floor of the burned house no longer existed, but he was content resting his head on a patch of grass that had begun to grow. His horse began to drink from a puddle on the ground. Sleep overwhelmed his eyelids, pulling them down with a heavy force he couldn't fight against.

He briefly dreamt of Shiro. Back home, where they belong. The Garrison was a bad idea from the start, he would tell him. Things are much better like they’ve always been. Just you, me, and mom. Just-

His horse released a blast of air from her nostrils, stirring him from his dreams. His eyes flickered open, settling on a figure standing above him.

“Huh!?” He immediately grappled for the dagger he kept hidden at his belt.

“Ah!” A girlish voice shrieked at his sudden movement, falling backwards to join him on the ground.

Keith's hand momentarily hovered over his blade as he realized the threat that had previously loomed over him in his vulnerable state now took the form of a small child. A boy with a small stature, round glassy, and frizzy blonde hair peered up at him in horror.

“W-what the hell are you doing here?” Keith barked at the child.

“Me!? You’re the one who broke into my secret hideout and just decided to crash here!” He indignantly barked back, causing Keith to realize his actions were probably a bit unjustified. He released his grip on his knife. He wouldn’t have to use it here. Deeming him harmless, he simply raised a brow at the boy.

“ _This_ is your secret hideout? Aren’t you a little young for arson?”

“I didn’t say I burned it down!” He huffed, picking himself up off the ground. After further examination, Keith got a strange vibe from the boy.

“Why’re you dressed like that? And what are you doing out here this late; during a storm no less.” Keith inquired. The boy cast his gaze downward. He wore a long, hooded cloak that matched the darkness of the sky. Keith realized it was none of his business, but he couldn’t help but wonder why such a young boy was doing out here in the middle of a storm.

“I could ask you the same things…” The boy gave a self-satisfied smirk. Keith had no intention of playing these games. He had no time.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep here, anyways. I need to leave, now.” Keith regained his former haste, gathering his belongings and approaching his horse.

“Okay, so, first of all; Don’t call me ‘kid.’ You’re probably not even that much older than me. Secondly, you’re not going anywhere without me.” The kid- Err, stranger, stated so matter-of-factly that Keith was frozen in place. He could only blink in response to the boldness of someone who almost had a knife pulled on them seconds ago.

“Okayyyy…. And you mind explaining how you came to that conclusion?” Keith managed.

“You’re a mage, right?” The stranger asked, eyes fixed on the red crystal hanging from his neck. Keith nodded cautiously. Not all were fond of mages; in fact, most people feared them. Mages were mostly seen as tools for the Emperor to use in battle. Weapons, essentially.

“Good, then if my hunch is correct, you and I have the same destination.”

“Huh?” Keith wonder what kind of hunch he must have from seeing a renegade mage passed out in an abandoned building. His curiosity piqued, despite his impatience to keep moving. “...The Castle?” Keith tilted his head at the boy, receiving an enthused nod in response.

“So, here’s the deal. I know exactly where the castle is, but I have no means of transportation.” The strange boy gestured towards the horse. “You, on the other hand, have a horse, but not the foggiest fucking clue how to get to the Castle. See where I’m going here?”

Well, this kid was certainly more mature than most his age. Keith thought about the proposition for a moment. He eyed the boy one more time, deciding he couldn’t possibly be a threat to him. He didn’t know why a human boy with no magic blood had a destination like the Castle, but he accepted the blessing for what it was.

Keith silently mounted his horse, giving a sigh before turning to the boy.

“Get on.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“It’s Pidge, by the way.”

After about an hour of dead silence, a voice startled Keith from his concentrated state. The sun had begin to rise, though the world was still shrouded with darkness from the remnants of the storm.

“What?” Keith answered the person clinging to his back with a question.

“My name. I know you didn’t ask, but I just wanted you to know. It’s Pidge.”

“...Keith.” He felt his wariness for the stranger, Pidge, shrinking. If not for Pidge’s guidance, who knows how long it would’ve taken for the Castle’s striking silhouette to finally come in to view.

“Thank you, by the way. For like, not stabbing me. And taking me along with you.” Pidge began to ramble in a way that Keith couldn’t help but find endearing. He didn’t give replies, but he listened attentively. “I know you probably have a lot of questions. See, my brother is a mage. His name is Matt. The Garrison came through my town last night, and they took him away. I guess he’s at that age. Oh! He’s a cleric class, by the way. I’m not a mage, though. It seems to only run in guys in our family. We moved to Altea when I was just a kid, after humanity was nearly wiped out by the Galra? I’m sure you’re familiar, seeing as you’re human, too. Anyways, Matt and I have called this place home since I was-”

Keith’s mind was stuck on a particular piece of information.

_Only in… guys?_

_Oh._

Keith was taking in a lot of information all at once, and his head began to spin.

“Wait, wait, wait. You’re looking for your brother?” Keith repeated.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” Pidge responded. “Why?”

“...No reason.”

It seems he and Pidge had more in common than he had originally thought.

He began to slow his horse down to a trot as they broke from their conversation to stare in amazement at the structure before them. Dawn broke on the horizon, illuminating the shining white marble the Castle was built with. A great lake surrounded the walls of the castle, high and piercing into the sky. A translucent bridge made of unknown material stretched across, leading to the heavily guarded gates at the front of the awe-inspiring structure.

“Woah.” Pidge murmured under her breath.

“Now what?” Keith asked, causing Pidge to sputter indignantly.

“What do you mean, ‘Now what?’ You don’t have a _plan?”_

Keith groaned in frustration, “I guess I didn’t think I’d make it this far!” Pidge face-palmed.

“Okay, well, we’re not getting in through the front gate. That’s for sure.”

“Then… The, back gate?” Keith wondered, clueless. Pidge sighed.

“I don’t think there _is_ a back gate, Keith. However, I’d bet money there is another way in. We’re gonna have to look around.”

In his mind, he had pictured himself busting into the castle and going about this in a much more ‘guns-blazin’ style, but he supposed stealth worked too.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Pidge, check this out.”

The two of them were drenched from head to toe. Keith’s voice was wrung with heavy breaths, having swum the expanse of the lake to avoid detection, scaling the gates with only a knife as Pidge clung to his back, and avoiding detection for nearly an hour as they searched for an entrance he was starting to not believe in. Finally, something of interest appeared. 

A lone pillar jutted out of the pristine green grass. Thin and white, it appeared to be a monument of some sort. However, upon inspection, he found an indentation perfectly mirroring the shape of his crystal heart.

“I suppose it’s meant to be a key, in this place. Makes sense, considering only mages can walk these grounds.” Pidge gestured to his glittering gem.

A mage’s heart was to be worn visibly at all times in their society. For some, it was a mark of shame. For others, pride. The difference largely marked by whether or not you were accepted into the Garrison. Keith had never felt shame from the glittering red stone. Rather, he felt a sort of protectiveness. Shameful or not, it was something to be guarded. If it were to break, your life would end. All mages are born with these gems inside their hearts, only breaching the surface of their skin around the same time most kids hit puberty. Up until then, it’s impossible to know for sure how your life will turn out.

“Helloooo? Did you forget we’re on a bit of a mission here?”  Pidge poked at his sides.

“Sorry, just thinking.” Keith stated. The two of them whirled around in sync as they heard a pair of voices from around the bend. The guards had been circling the perimeters of the Castle, and were fast approaching them.

“Keith, do it!” Pidge whispered frantically. Keith returned his gaze to the indentation, grasping at his necklace.

_“You’ll have to be very careful with it, Keith. If anything happens to your heart, you won’t get a second chance.”_

Shiro’s words played in his mind, stopping his hand with an unseen force.

“Keith! They’re right there! Hurry!” Pidge shook Keith with a force that seemed stronger than she could produce. His pulse was palpable in his throat as he steeled his nerves.

_Sorry, Shiro. I’m gonna be a bit reckless._

He plunged his heart into the socket, and it slid in seamlessly. He sent out a last second prayer that he hadn’t just thrown his heart into some twisted machine that would deliver a crushing blow to his precious crystal. Sucking in a breath, he began to feel… light.

He watched from the corner of his eye as the guards came into view, before instantly dissipating into thin air, replaced by a brand new scenery. The lightheaded feeling faded, and his feet once again felt heavily planted on the ground. He released the breath he had been holding captive, drinking in the new, darker surroundings. He felt a residual rush from the floating sensation. 

“Oh. My. God.” Pidge shakily breathed, still clinging tightly to the cloth of his shirt. “Did we just teleport!?” A smile of pure astonishment spread across her face, and apparently it was contagious.

“So that’s what it feels like…” Keith retrieved his heart, securing it back around his neck.

“Huh? You’ve never done that before? Aren’t mages supposed to do all kinds of cool stuff like that?” Pidge asked.

“Did your brother just randomly teleport across the house constantly?”

“...Eh, you’ve got a point. Matt never told me a lot about mages, though. To be honest, I have a lot to learn.”

“Oh… Well, yeah. I’ve never… done magic before.” Pidge’s jaw nearly dropped at the statement. Keith shrugged. “I couldn’t.”

“...Because you’re a paladin?” She guessed, correctly.

“Paladins can’t harness magical energy on their own. And without a way to harness the energy, there’s no magic.”

“Ah, I get it. Matt is a cleric, so it was a bit different for him. He definitely has magical energy! He just kinda… Can’t use it.”

Keith nodded. “That’s why paladins and clerics bond together. They simply can't function without each other. I don’t have one though…” Pidge gave him a questioning look. “A cleric, that is.”

“That’s so strange… a magical being whose never used magic their whole life. I can't imagine.”

“It’s not like I need it. I can fight just fine on my own.”  

“Not against an actual mage duo, though.” She retorted. 

Keith scoffed at the girl’s remark, resenting it’s truthfulness.

“Whatever, let’s just keep moving.”

“Right. Uh, Where are we going exactly?”

Keith took a moment to properly take in their surroundings. If he was guessing, he’d say they were underground. The are was musty, brick walls covered in dust and cobwebs. Four long corridors stretched out from the the point they converged on, where the pristine white pillar stood. It was identical to the one outside. There were four choices here; four chances to fuck everything up.  

“Straight ahead.” Keith decided. Pidge didn’t seem to know any better as she followed his confident lead down the dimly lit hall.

“Man… I can’t believe Matt left without saying goodbye… I swear when I-” Keith whirled around, clasping a hand against her mouth and dragging her close to the wall. Her eyes wide, she nodded in understanding as Keith pressed his finger to his lips in a “shush” motion.

A distant murmur of voices grew louder as they waited with bated breath against the wall.

“How many were lost this year?” A regal, commanding voice echoed around the corner. Keith prayed there was enough distance between themselves and the corner to not be noticed. If the approaching party chose to turn down their corridor, he would have to fight. He released Pidge’s mouth, moving to grasp his blade.

“Only a handful, sire. Rest assured the problem is being met with consequence. We will not allow these fools to threaten the peace treaty any longer.”

The peace treaty? Whoever these people are, they sound important. Not the type you wanna start swinging a blade at. Keith and Pidge tensed as two figures stopped at the intersection of hallways just ahead. Keith pressed hard against the wall, wishing to disappear into it.

“See to it, then.” Keith only caught a glimpse of long, blindingly silver hair before he knew it was time to make a tactical exit. He had heard many rumors of the Galran Prince, and maybe now wasn’t the best time to meet him.

“Pidge…” He whispered so quietly his words nearly dissolved into air. “Move.” He nudged her back from whence they came. She nodded frantically. The two of them began to inch closer to the white pillar, still flush against the wall as they crept. They would simply chose a different hallway. 

The conversation between the supposed prince and the other continued, but Keith’s mind turned the words into alphabet soup. He worked on steadying his breathing. _Almost there._

A few more steps and they could turn the corner. He looked back at the prince, and saw that their position had not changed. The prince’s back to them, he whispered hurriedly “Now!”

Keith moved first, circling around the corner to-

“Ah!” Keith let out a cry, unable to stop his feet before running face first into an unknown figure. They collided with a crash of foreheads. Unfortunately, Keith’s momentum wouldn’t let this misfortune end there. He tumbled forward, grasping at the person’s shoulders to stop himself from falling. A mistake, really.

His blow was cushioned by the soft chest of his mystery victim, who let out a yelp to accompany the thud as they hit the floor.

“Keith!” Pidge whisper-screamed.

Dazed and confused, Keith lifted himself up by his arms. He was met with parted lips, flushed olive skin, and deep blue eyes all framed by messy brunette hair. Keith felt his breath stolen away, before realizing he was currently pinning this breathtaking sight to the floor in a castle they had broken into. He wanted to apologize, or at least scramble to his feet and never look back. But before he had time to do anything at all, his victim flushed, and opened his mouth to speak panicked words.

_Oh no…_

“Wh-What? W-who are you!?” The image of angelic charm was utterly shattered by his abrupt and vehement voice echoing through the halls. Certainly, loud enough to catch all kinds of unwanted attention.

Keith didn’t care how pretty he was, he was going to throttle him for this.

“Damn it!” Keith cursed, clumsily making it to his feet.

Pidge immediately grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the scene.

“Hey, wait!” The mystery boy called out to them, but Keith didn’t spare him another glance.

“Who goes there? Guards!” The same commanding voice from earlier now ordered their capture, and Keith knew this wasn’t going to be easy. He unsheathed his knife, ready to fight. He took the lead from Pidge, feeling strangely protective of the girl he had just met. They rounded the corner, only to be met face-first with opposition. A pair of guards, heavily armored, broke into a fighting stance before them.

“Stand back, Pidge!” Keith moved before thinking, taking a swift strike at the taller of the guards instantly. He trained his blade on the leather armor near their necks, and it sliced through easily. There was a reason he carried this knife everywhere he went. The guard was stunned by his swift strike, giving Keith time to sweep his legs from beneath him. The guard went down easily, clanging to the ground with a groan.

“Keith, look out!” Pidge’s warning came too late.

Keith had turned to dispatch the next guard before every muscle in his body froze. He felt the familiar tingle he had experienced while teleporting earlier. These guards were mages. 

“Shit!” He cried out, commanding his body to move, fruitlessly. His gaze drifted towards the smaller guard, who outstretched a hand toward Keith’s paralyzed body. A purple aura was visible, forming rings around his body that sealed him in place helplessly. He heard more footsteps approaching their commotion. He wanted to tell Pidge to run, but without him, she would be trapped in here. Unless…

“Pidge, take my heart and run.” He commanded. 

Pidge stammered, “Huh!?”

“As long as this mage is holding me down, they can’t move. This is your only chance. Go!” He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if they both died here. He would at least save her.

The mage holding him in place looked as if struggling. Eyes flickered between Pidge and Keith, as if waiting for her to run away with his life in her hands. Any sane person would trade a mage’s life for their own; they’re just tools. The reinforcements were mere steps away now.

“Pidge!” He roared out one last time, begging her to live. She flinched away.

“I’m sorry, Keith. I can’t…” She spoke weakly, as if ashamed. 

That was the last thing he heard before a blow to the back of his head rendered his vision nothing more than exploding splotches of blackness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter two~! Any comments or feedback is appreciated!

Keith awoke to the feeling of the cold, grainy floor scraping against his cheek. He had lost his sense of time, and his memory was shot. The image of the guards closing in and him and Pidge felt like a sting, clearing away the confusion.  

“Pidge!” He shot upwards, eyesight ill-adjusted to the dark surroundings. 

“‘Sup?” A casual voice called out from above. Certainly not the voice of a god; too boyish and lax. He sighed in relief, before quickly riling himself up. The girl sat cross-legged on the higher of two beds, cleaning off her glasses without a care in the world. 

“Pidge, I told you to run. Do you have a death wish?” 

“See Keith, if I had taken your heart and ran,  _ I _ would’ve been the one killing you. You’re still going to die, but at least this way, your blood isn’t on my hands.” She adjusted her glasses back onto her face, seeming eerily calm despite the words she spoke. 

“What do you mean?” Keith calmed himself. 

“I mean, breaking and entering the Castle is kinda one of the highest forms of treason out there.” She gave a dramatic sigh. “I mean, technically, we didn’t actually break anything. So we just entered. Wait- Is entering a crime?” 

He interrupted her internal debate by storming up to the bars that contained them in their cell. 

“Damn it! Let us out!” He gripped the bars, shaking them harshly. 

“Literally, when has that  _ ever _ worked, Keith?” Pidge jumped off her perch before joining Keith to look outside the bars. The panic in his chest swelled, and it didn’t help that his companion was being so happy-go-lucky. “We should play it cool. I think this is the part when we distract the guards and steal the keys, or something.” 

“How can you be so calm?” Keith found himself growing annoyed. If they didn’t find a way out fast, they were going to die. 

“I… I’m not.” It was only then that Keith recognized the shaky quality of her voice. He sighed and turned his gaze downwards. 

“Sorry. We’re gonna get out of here. Our brothers are still out there, after all. I’ll be damned if I’m dying before I at least get to see him again.” 

Pidge shared a glance with him. 

“You’re looking for your brother too, huh?” A warm smile grew between the two of them. Somehow, they’d ended up in this situation together, and Keith found himself grateful to her. He tried not to think about the alternative, of enduring this alone, as he had planned. 

His eyes darted around outside the cell. There were no guards that he could see. He and Pidge then thoroughly searched the room, checking for any form of escape opportunity. They both came up short. Before long, he heard echoing footsteps from the hall. 

_ Guards. _ Keith devised a plan in his head, and quickly. That guard was instrumental to their escape, and he couldn’t let him walk away. He lacked the skill of mincing words, so Keith resorted to the only tactic he could rely on; he started throwing things. 

“What the hell are you doing!?” Pidge flailed as Keith began to chuck the limited objects in their cell through the bars with determination. 

“I’m gonna make them open the door.” He stated simply. “Then we’ll ambush him. Got it?” He threw out the last of the pillows, though they seemed utterly ineffective at garnering attention. 

Pidge nodded hesitantly, and Keith turned his eyes toward bigger ammunition. Pidge gawked at him as he ripped the mattress from the board it rest upon, and began to force it through the slots in the bars. 

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A brutish voice bellowed from down the hall.  _ Perfect. _ Keith turned to repeat the process with the second mattress, Pidge stifled a smirk at the chaos. The guard approached their cell, attempting to shove the mattress back in before being thrown to the ground as Keith pushed back. The mattress was then unceremoniously thrown atop the irate guard. Pidge began to laugh uncontrollably, adding an edge to the guard’s already spoiled mood. 

“Stop that, immediately!” The command in his voice was a lot less intimidating than the board Keith had torn from the wall, threatening to launch at the scrambling man on the floor. 

“Why don’t you make me, huh!?” Keith shouted, praying the guard would take his advice. He was running out of things to throw. The guard let out a belligerent cry, barely dodging the hunk of wood that came barreling toward him. The guard unsheathed a sword, stomping towards the cell’s locking mechanism. Keith reached for his knife, but was only able to grasp at air. In hindsight, he should’ve realized they would take away his knife, but hindsight wasn’t going to save him now.

“Shit…” Keith cursed his mistake as the cell door swung open violently. Keith’s reflexes didn’t fail him as he dodged the first few swing of the man’s sword, clamoring to find something to defend himself with. 

“Keith! I gotchu’!” Pidge looked akin to a spider monkey as she launched herself onto the guard’s shoulders, successfully distracting him long enough for Keith to land a hit on the man. Amongst the sweeping limbs and struggle for power Keith grappled to disarm the man. Keith reached out for the weapon, leaving himself vulnerable just a second too long. 

He was struck hard enough across the face to turn his vision white, feeling the ground disappear from under him. Seconds later, he heard Pidge shriek before her body collided against his. The two of them fell into a clutter on the floor, and Keith’s gaze caught the glimmer of silver being raised above their heads. Quickly, he pulled Pidge close, shielding her body from the pain of being split open. 

He waited for the pain to sever his life, only to hear the clang of the sword against the uncaring floor. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, looking up with a face twisted in confusion. Just in time to watch the guard drop limply to the floor, revealing a familiar figure standing behind him. Keith’s brain seemed to short circuit, before recognizing the boy from the hallway.

“Y-you!” Keith stammered, still adjusting to the fact that he was alive. 

Before him stood the very soul responsible for this situation. He didn’t know his name, and it wasn’t important. What was important was the novel concept that the very same person who had alerted the guards to their presence now stood as his apparent savior. He wasn’t having it. 

He glowered as he looked the boy over. He seemed to be frozen in the stance he had used to knock the guard out, merely staring down at the outcome, agape. He gripped his staff with white knuckles; the weapon of choice for most clerics. His clothing was also standard of a cleric; soft and flowing. He wore a blue tunic with a prominent collar, unlaced at the neck to show a dash of skin. Various belts and cloth wrapped loosely around his waist. It was all tied together with a shawl draped at his shoulders, held together with an interesting choice of accessory; his crystal heart. Keith chastised himself for giving the boy a once-over, and the situation at hand returned to the front of his mind.  

“Wipe that stupid look off your face, and move.” Keith barked at the boy, causing him to jump. 

“Woah! I’m trying to get you guys out of here. Why’re you being such a jerk!?” An indignant look spread across the boy’s face. 

“Help us? Why?” Keith questioned, trying to make his way around the boy who only mirrored his movements. He stepped to the right, only to be faced with the same obstacle that was at his left. “Stop that!” 

“I’m helping you because I feel bad, okay!? I didn’t mean to get you guys in trouble, and…”  

“Well you shouldn’t have, okay? Now move!” Keith felt heat rising, threatening to boil over. 

“Oh, yeah, looks like you totally had that under control and everything.” The boy deadpanned. Keith stepped forward with a vicious glare. 

“Uh, hey guys. This is cute and all, but we should really be going.” Pidge chimed in, seconds before Keith lost his temper. Lance softened at Pidge’s request, causing Keith’s eyes to roll. 

“Yeah, you’re right. If you guys follow me, I can show you the way out.” Lance beamed, practically bouncing out of the cell to lead the way. Keith and Pidge shared a glance and a shrug before following the obnoxious mage. This turn of events was unusual, but it was favorable to being split in two by sword.

On their way out of the barracks, Keith took a detour to relocate his knife, to the other’s chagrin. He felt an unjustified need to have it with him, always. He slid the object back into its rightful place before rejoining the others. 

The boy in blue led them with over dramatic purpose. He crouched low to the ground, detailing every corner at least thrice before motioning them forward. Keith bit down the urge to complain. They eventually reached another teleportation pillar standing just outside the ward, where the surroundings were more presentable of a castle. Wide, marbled halls opened up on the left to let in the pure sunlight of dawn, broken only by the pillars that lined the dropoff elegantly. They paralleled the countless doors to the left, stretching as far as Keith’s vision would allow. The boy straightened up, resting his hands on his hips in triumph. 

“Well, that was easier than I thought it would be. We made it to the dorms!” He gestured to the pillar. “Now then, I don’t know where you guys came from, but I know you’re not supposed to be here. Use this port to take you up to the main entrance hall of the Castle. From there, just  _ act natural.  _ As long as you don’t do anything weird,  _ like tackling a stranger _ , the guards shouldn’t question you on your way out.” 

Pidge and Keith immediately locked eyes, a silent agreement seemed to float telepathically between them. Keith returned his attention to the blue boy. 

“That’s not happening.” He leveled his voice, putting effort into not sounding ungrateful.

“What?” The boy was taken aback. “Are you  _ trying _ to get caught? Is this some kind of weird game? 

“We’re here to bring our brother’s back to where they belong. Maybe you’ve heard of them… Takashi Shirogane and Matt..?” 

“...Holt.” Pidge finished. Lance furrowed his brow at the two. 

“Bring them back? I’ve never heard of anyone leaving here. Mages are supposed to live out their lives here.” 

Keith’s voice riled. “Have you heard of them, or not?” 

Lance’s concerned face locked eyes with Keith, as if desperately searching for something. “I haven’t. But I also haven’t been here for long, myself. This is my first year, I was selected a week ago.” 

Keith sighed as his eyes raked over the sheer quantity of doors that presented themselves. He began walking, passing up the boy in blue. 

“Hey, hold it, Ponytail!” Keith stopped as if hitting a wall. He assumed the boy was referring to the way he kept his hair, gathered into a low and short ponytail in lieu of cutting it.

“That is _ not _ my name.” He felt the stubborn urge to humor the boy, despite the pressing situation. 

“Well, sorry. It’s all I could think of.” The boy let out a harmless chuckle. 

“I’m Pidge!” She cheerfully chimed in. 

“Oh! Nice to meet you, Pidge.” He turned his attention to the girl, happy to be given the time of day. “And I am your one-and-only savior, Lance McClain!” Pidge raised a brow at him, before letting out a snort. Lance gave an offended pout. 

“Well, my moody friend over there is Keith. If you call him ‘Ponytail’ again he might just end up throwing our one-and-only savior off that cliff over there.” Pidge noted, correct as usual. 

Keith squirmed at the thought of them giving introductions; it implied they would be seeing more of each other. That just wasn’t true. He began to break from the group, pacing down the hall.

“Shiro!” Keith broke the peaceful quiet of the living quarters, bellowing out his brother’s name. He cupped his hands around his mouth and began to repeat himself, making his way down the endless hall. “Shiro, are you there!?” 

Distantly, he heard Lance and Pidge scramble to rejoin him. 

“Are you crazy!?” Lance gripped Keith’s shoulder, and for a moment he felt a surge of airiness. Lance seemed to feel it too, instantly retracting his hand. Keith immediately brushed off the strange sensation, turning back to his task.

“This is the only way. I can’t search  _ all _ of these rooms. If he hears me, he’ll come.” He returned to his pacing. 

“Yeah, and so will every guard within a five mile radius!” Lance jogged to keep up. 

“I think Lance is right, Keith. We should-” 

Like a whip cracking, the three of them were stunned into place by a booming voice. 

“Go no further.” 

Keith turned to see the same silver, flowing hair from the underground chambers. Laying eyes on his features, there was no doubt they were faced with royalty. His appearance sharp and defined, accompanied by an air of authority. Beside him, a figure of beauty stood. He instantly recognised her to be the Princess of Altea, betrothed to the prince as a symbol of insecure peace between nations. Concern governed her face as the Prince strode forward. 

“I thought I had ordered the guards to take care of you, but it seems I’ll have to do so myself.” Lotor drew his sword, and the air turned thick as everyone took a defensive stance. “And you.” Lotor pointed his sword at Lance, who let out an ‘eep.’ “You’re the one who alerted the guards to these intruders, and now here you stand aiding their escape. Just what kind of game are you playing?” Lance began to stammer for an explanation, but Lotor had no intention of hearing one. He lunged forward, sword precisely aimed for Lance’s throat. 

Keith moved before his thoughts caught up with him, shoving Lance and himself to the ground. The impact was dull, but the searing pain he felt pressed against Lance’s skin was sharp enough to force a cry from him. Lance ripped himself away from his touch with a pained cry. An overwhelmed stare met Keith’s gaze from the floor beside him. Keith couldn’t spare a second to question it, ripping out his blade and instantly parrying a strike from the prince. 

“Lotor, wait!” A silk-like voice with an altean lilt called out, but Lotor showed no signs of slowing down. Keith rolled out of the impact zone with little time to spare, clamoring upright as Lotor prepared another strike. Their blades clashed once more, but Keith felt himself being overpowered. He slipped backwards as if the floor beneath him froze over, his blade coming loose. He heard it clank against the floor as it skittered further and further away from him. He attempted to dodge the next incoming swing, losing his balance. He was punished for misstep when sizzling pain tore through his unarmored chest. 

Every noise around him turned to a distant buzz as he crashed against the floor. He faintly heard Pidge’s voice, Lance’s, and several others. He blinked, willing his shaky vision to steady on his opponent for the last time. He fell puzzled upon realizing Lotor’s gaze was now fixated elsewhere. As the ringing in his ears ceased, the rippling sensation in his chest grew agonizing. He felt it in full force for the first time; a lethal wound. 

He caught Pidge from the corner of his eyes, running to retrieve Keith’s weapon, and lotor’s attention was momentarily stolen by the girl. Lotor began to walk, unintimidated, towards the armed girl. If he could cut down Keith, he would execute Pidge just as swiftly. 

“Pidge… No!” He croaked the words, pinned down by his aching wound. 

“Keith…” Lance, who had remained grounded, now pulled Keith’s gaze away from the scene with his voice, somehow magnetic. “Grab my hand…” Lance pleaded, fingers stretched outwards, ready to meet his. 

“What..?” Keith questioned him with breathless doubt. He thought about the baffling pain touching lance had caused them seconds ago, and held his hand stubbornly against his wound to slow the stream of crimson. 

“Please… I can’t explain why, I just know this is what I have to do.” Urgency flooded the boy’s voice, and the words managed to resonate with Keith. His own hand moved as if gravity itself demanded it, joining together with Lance’s. As their fingers threaded together, Keith prepared for the blaring pain that rivaled the gash at his chest, but it did not come. 

His fingers instead began to prickle, the reaction spreading throughout his arm as their palms pressed together. If he had a heartbeat, it would be racing. He felt a heat generate between their palms, accompanied by a glowing aura that began to span their bodies. A euphoric feeling unlike anything else suddenly buzzed every nerve in his body alive, turning everything to a blinding white light. His consciousness began to slip. 

 

-

 

Keith’s eyes were filled with swirling nebulas and rich colors as they reopened. The ground no longer at his feet, the scene that had been unfolding before him utterly erased. There was no sign of the others; he only felt himself floating and drifting and wavering. 

He assumed he had died. 

This place must be the afterlife. He felt for the opening in his chest, feeling bare skin that was thoroughly intact. Around him, stars flickered around the clouds of space dust. No planets nearby, he was simply swimming through a beautiful piece of space. It was vivid and breathtaking, rather than cold and dark the way he had imagined space. Expanding endlessly, he would drift here for eternity, alone. 

No sooner than he accepted this fate, the bubbling warmth he had shared with Lance returned to him. A small, glimmering speck floated adjacent to him, as if tethered to his soul. It gleamed as the faraway stars did, yet it was close enough to reach out to if he dared. His senses overwhelmed him as he brushed against the spark, soft like skin, and he wrenched his eyes shut in panic.

As if burned into his eyelids, he saw Lance’s face, gentle and floating as he was. The vision slurred, and colors exploded in the darkness of his view. 

Red, blue, purple. 

Then his body shuddered as he felt himself violently absorbed back into it. His eyes sprung open, and the familiar marble walls alerted him that he was still very much alive. Except that something was different now, he felt lighter than before, and the wound at his chest was forgotten. 

Before he could process it, he was reminded of the danger about to befall his friend as he watched Lotor raise his sword to her. Time, that had stopped for him, lost it’s patience as it resumed in full force. 

“Pidge!” Keith felt helpless as he extended a hand that was too far to reach her. 

He felt like a passenger in his own body when his crystal heart reacted to the motion, heating and glowing intensely. A purple sigil appeared underneath his body, channeling an energy that rushed through every inch of his body. The power burst forth, sending a bolt of energy like lightning rippling into Lotor. His sword clamored to the floor as he writhed from the shock, and Keith’s mouth fell open upon realizing it was he who had commanded that energy; that  _ magic.  _

“How…?” He stared at his hand as if it no longer belonged to him. He whipped around, a sudden realization creeping. “No way…” He shakily breathed, locking eyes with Lance. 

The boy appeared to mirror his disbelief. Yet, the evidence rested plainly at their feet. A matching purple sigil swirled around Lance’s body, before dissipating in sync with his own. They shared a wordless exchange of amazement and horror. Something twitched in his hand, and he jerked apart from Lance as he realized their fingers still interlocked. 

Massive double doors that spanned towards the ceiling were burst apart in an explosive crash, followed by a flurry of heavy footsteps crowding into the residual air of the battle. Keith gawked at the imposing figure of the emperor, cluttered with guards and closely followed by a disturbing, cloaked figure with frail white hair. The Galran emperor assessed the situation before groveling an order at his inferiors. 

“Kill the intruders.” 

Paralyzation hit as his muscled tensed at the words, the familiar rings around his body being cast upon himself and the others, while the armed guards moved in to follow their orders. He scanned his surroundings, noting several mages poking their heads out from their rooms to watch the unfolding commotion. None of them held any intention of intervening. Keith couldn’t even struggle as the guards approached. 

“Wait! Please! May we hold a trial instead, emperor Zarkon?” The voice like honey from earlier halted all movement, speaking with desperate purpose. All eyes came to rest upon the princess. 

“You would have a trial for those who brought harm upon your betrothed? Did you not witness their treachery with your own eyes?” Zarkon remained composed, but spoke with disappointment. He gestured toward Lotor’s heaving frame, collapsed on the floor. 

“I believe they may have a defense. We are not so uncivilized that we would execute criminals without hearing their testimony, are we?” The princess retorted, projecting her voice for all onlookers to hear. 

Zarkon eyed the mages, witnesses to the dispute.

“The Castle of Mages stands at the border of the Galran Empire and Altea, a symbol of peace between nations. If you cannot honor our ways, it is nothing more than a farce.” The princess held her ground. Looks were exchanged between the guards and the mages, and uneasiness filled the air as they began to whisper amongst themselves. If this was verbal chess, the princess had just knocked the emperor’s pieces all across the board. Keith didn’t understand what motive the princess truly held, but he was sure it hadn’t much to do with their lives. 

“No, no. Princess Allura is right. Though the criminals are deserving of death, we must honor the way of the Alteans. They will be given a trial, and swiftly executed. Does this please you, princess?” Zarkon addressed her, towering above with a glint of disgust in his eyes. 

All went silent, with not a single breath dared to be released until the princess spoke again. 

“Very well.” 


	3. Chapter 3

“You’re up.” A gnarled voice roused him from his slumber. He shifted on the ice cold slab he was provided in his cell; a sorry excuse for a bed. The door to his cell screeched open, and he winced. Since he had struck down the prince earlier that day, his body became overwhelmed with fatigue. He had found himself unable to resist the lull of sleep even in the dire situation he found himself in.

Even now, as one of the rugged Galra guards tugged harshly on his limbs, his body felt crushed by the weight of a thousand bricks holding him down. He grimaced at the rough treatment, forced to his feet with hands twisted behind his back, swiftly clasped together by an unmistakable force; magic.

He knew the feeling all too well, now.

Tripping over his cumbersome feet, he was pushed forward impatiently. He shot the nameless guard a look, with no means of following through with the threat. His body was foreign as he willed his feet slowly, one foot in front of the other. He felt like an infant learning to walk again. Although, children aren’t usually taught with the point of a sword at their backs.

His struggle was eased with time, feeling his energy returning to him as he was lead out of the familiar walls of the barracks. He was curious about his sudden lethargy, catching himself wondering if, perhaps, Lance was feeling this too. After all, they had…

He exhaled, removing a weight from his mind. He shouldn’t be worrying about Lance. He attempted to move his fingers, only to feel a bite of sharp pain in response. One of the guards scoffed at his simplicity; the spell that bound his hands was no joke. They continued in silence, though Keith’s mind was deafening with unease.

Before he could process a way to escape, the guards pushed him towards a set of towering doors. He could hear the faint mumble of a crowd through the wooden entryway as they inched closer. Resistance jumped to the forefront of his mind, stopping his feet from taking another step.

A guard circled around to confront his defiant captive, delivering a swift blow to the face. Keith reeled from the punch, barely registering the crack of the massive doors splitting open. Light poured in from the room they revealed, illuminating the murky halls he stood within. He squinted, overwhelmed with pain and brilliance.

The sight eased into focus as his eyes adjusted. At the far end of the room, facing him head on, was a large throne. Zarkon sat squarely amidst his seat, watching the doors creak open with casual indifference. To his side, more familiar faces appeared. The prince and princess were both present, along with the hooded figure from earlier, all eyeing him with various looks of disgust and concern.

They were not alone. A sea of well-dressed, aristocratic profiles filled the raised stands that lined the sides of the walls. They began to hush as he was ushered into the center, like the silence before a play.

The room was grandiose overall, a show of status and superiority, and at the center of it was Lance. Forced to his knees, he sat on the pristine floors with his head downturned, only raising it to meet Keith’s approaching gaze. Fearful blue eyes met with his composed mauve stare, fueled by a puzzling obligation to remain calm.

He hissed in discomfort as he was kicked to ground at Lance’s side. His landing lacked grace, he noted, as his face connected to the floor. He peeled off, mirroring Lance’s more presentable posture. He sensed the boy’s eyes still peering at him, but he focused only on the throne before him. The remaining whispers faded to an eerie hush, and Keith felt a bead of sweat forming at his brow.

“Let us begin.” The emperor cut the silence, projecting his voice in a manner that warned all to heed him. “The two before us today are convicted of the highest of crimes. These mages would dare to raise a hand against royal blood. They are treasonists who shall be dealt a swift execution.” The Emperor wasted no time cutting into them, but Keith refused to hold his tongue.

“It was self defense.” Keith chimed, earning looks of disapproval from the crowd. He could hear Lance’s every breath beside him, increasing in intensity with each word spoken. The emperor glared down at him. Did these people expect him to not fight back? If so, they were about to be sorely disappointed.

“Your _prince_ was the one who attacked us first.” He sneered, unafraid to speak the truth. This caused the prince to rouse.

“And with good reason. Breaking into the Castle of Mages is yet another act of treason. What exactly are you hoping to accomplish? Shall we continue counting your misdeeds until they’re no longer restricted to one hand?” Lotor raised his nose, looking down on the two of them as he spoke. Keith caught a glimpse of the princess wincing from his retort. Lotor had a point, as he was only digging himself deeper. Yet, he felt challenged to continue.

“I came here with no ill intent, _your highness_. I was simply retrieving something that was stolen from me.” Keith pressed the issue, refusing to lose the last word.

“Enough. Regardless of your motives, you have committed two irredeemable acts against the unified kingdoms of Galra and Altea. Both acts are punishable by death.” Zarkon commanded all eyes back to himself as he delivered his judgment. Keith squirmed, unable to retort.

“And you.” Zarkon’s gaze left him, floating with fearsome grace towards Lance. Keith stole a glance at him, watching helplessly as the boy’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Aiding and abetting the very same treasonist in his escape.” Zarkon laid out his crimes, and Lance seemed to have the words stolen from his mouth. Though he hadn’t known him long, his silence seemed uncharacteristic.

Maybe it was the pathetic look in his eyes, or maybe it was the fact that he was much more tolerable when he was silent, but Keith knew he had to interject. He wouldn’t let Lance take the fall for his crimes.

“That’s false.” He plainly stated, regaining Zarkon’s stare. Lance made a startled sound, audible only to Keith.

“Oh? Explain.” Zarkon feigned interest.

“He was no aide of mine. In fact, he was a hostage.” Keith spoke with confidence, though he screamed at his own foolishness on the inside. He heard Lance gasp as if the air had been forced from his lungs.

“Hah! So there’s three criminal charges, after all? You really are the gift that keeps on giving, aren’t you?” Lotor, utterly amused, couldn’t contain his laughter. Keith felt his blood boiling.

“Silence!” Zarkon snarled at the prince. Apparently, Keith wasn't the only one irritated by his adolescent behavior. Lotor flinched, his hilarity crushed. Zarkon returned to study Lance with suspicion. The truth was, they had no proof to speak of that Lance had aided his escape. If Keith would admit to it, they had no reason not to believe his words.

“It’s true.” Keith reiterated his statement.

“What are you doing?” Lance whispered to him, voice cracking with horror.

_I don’t know!_

“Just, shut up.” He muttered, careful not to attract suspicion. He attempted to quell his raging emotions as the emperor quietly deliberated. He fought with himself internally, asking why he was doing this for someone he barely knew. A calmer, more rational side of himself answered.

_Because you are one now._

Keith fought to refute the thought, but failed. The two of them had forged a bond, even if by accident. Forging a bond was a sacred part of a mage’s life, and he had screwed them both out of it by landing them in this situation. If he could atone for his mistake, he would. He made the decision to clear Lance’s name, and shoulder the blame for himself.

He just wished he had the chance to say goodbye to Shiro.

“I see.” Zarkon decided. “Then the student is innocent. Execute the intruder.” He ruled.

Hands made haste, gripping and yanking him from his spot.

“No! Stop, what’re you doing!?” Lance broke from his stunned silence to protest, attempting to scramble to his feet. He was grounded by a kick, and a chaotic roar of voices began to ripple through the walls of the room.

“Hold on just a moment. This trial is not over yet.” Feminine and sweet, the Altean princess’ voice broke through the discord with the same command as that of the emperor.

“Allura, please-” Lotor began. The princess thoroughly ignored his intervention, continuing on in stride.

“You cannot execute that man.” Allura boldly proclaimed. Exasperated gasps broke out in response, and Keith knitted his brows in confusion. This marked the second time the princess had intervened to save his life, and he couldn’t fathom her reasoning.

“Surely, you jest.” Emperor Zarkon countered, a hint of intrigue showing in his voice.

“I am quite serious. The student has been proven innocent of his crimes, has he not?” She paused, allowing a nod from the emperor. “Then I will tell you all what Lotor has failed to mention, as I witnessed it with my very own eyes. These two have formed a mage’s bond.”

At her account, the air shifted back to uncomfortable silence. Keith looked around, confused. He scanned every face, retraced every step, and thought of every scenario, but he couldn’t figure out why that information was relevant. He glanced at his supposed partner, who seemed just as lost.

Zarkon deliberated the words. “Then we will have them both executed.”

“No! I refuse to let that happen. _You_ of all people know a bond is impossible to break, Zarkon.” She spoke tenaciously, her unwillingness to back down as admirable as it was troubling.

Signs of tension between Altean and Galran royalty pushed every witness to the edge of their seats. After humanity was nearly wiped out by the Galran Empire five years ago, many humans fled to Altea. The people of Altea welcomed them with open arms, but took up a war against the Galra as a consequence. After months of stalemate battles and endless casualties, an unheard of peace was offered by the Galran Emperor himself. The stories told of a beautiful reconciliation brought about by two kingdoms becoming one. Seeing the princess in the flesh made those stories seem entirely fabricated. She stared the emperor down with ferocity, and a clash of cultures made itself apparent.

“You cannot execute an innocent student.”

“We cannot allow the criminal's deeds to go unpunished.”

The faces in the crowd were heavily diverse. Alteans, Galra, and Humans alike began to feel the balance of power shifting at the throne. If this went on, the fragile peace they masqueraded would not survive the night.

Keith didn’t fully understand it, but it seemed that Lance and he shared a fate. One innocent, and one guilty; the dilemma presented itself for all to see. Keith dared not speak, he could do little more than silently root for the spark of hope he saw in the princess to ignite.  

“Then,” Zarkon began, treading lightly. “What would you have us do, Princess Allura?”

Allura paused thoughtfully.

“Allow the intruder a probationary period as a student of the Castle. If he proves himself unworthy of atonement, you may pass a new judgment upon them.”

Shock and awe unfolded across the crowd, while Keith and Lance merely spared each other a side-eyed glance. The princess was doing a better job saving their lives than they, so a silent agreement was made to let her handle the rest.

“That would be… problematic, princess.” Zarkon edged on irritation as he stated the obvious. His struggle to maintain a polite demeanor was almost comical.

“I respectfully disagree. You did not witness it, but these two possess a latent potential the likes of which I’ve never seen. Mere seconds after bonding, they were able to produce an attack with such energy that would take most mages months to fully master.” Her words shook Keith to his core. He felt suppressed by the realization of just how limited his knowledge of his own world was. That was simply the standard, however. Mages were a secretive topic, bordering on taboo amongst the outside world. Knowledge was an honor, gifted only to those deemed worthy by Selection, leaving the rest of the world in the dark.

Zarkon’s interest was now fully piqued. He cast a glance toward the hooded figure, who had managed to all but disappear amongst the pandemonium. Something unspoken seemed to pass between them, and Zarkon turned to face the princess.

“Very well, Princess Allura. I will concede to your judgment. These two may yet become an asset to the Royal Guard if their potential is as you say.” Zarkon stated respectfully, keeping up appearances.

Keith could only question if he was dreaming. The situation had turned on its heels at the princess’ will, and Keith felt the hands holding him in place release.

“The treasonist will enter a probationary period of two weeks, where he is to be treated as a student. Should he prove himself an asset to the Castle, he and his partner shall be spared. Should he act out of turn at any given moment, they are both to be executed.” Zarkon commanded, standing from his place on the throne.  “That is all.”

Keith’s mouth hung agape at the judgment. Minutes ago, he had accepted his fate. Now, he was being swiftly released from his bindings as the crowd began to disperse, still clamoring loudly from the unusual sentencing. Countless questions crossed his mind, and only one person held the answers.

He stood dumbfounded as Princess Allura approached him of her own accord.

“I’m sure you have questions. Please, won’t you come somewhere more private with me? We simply must talk.”

Keith nodded without hesitation, following her lead.

“Hey! What about me?” They both stopped to face Lance, who seemed to be back to himself.

“What about you?” Keith scoffed.

Lance strode up to Keith’s side, resting his arm casually on Keith’s shoulder.

“I mean, we’re kind of a package deal now, y’know?” Lance winked, and Keith felt inexplicably irritated. They had just narrowly escaped death for the second time in a row and this guy was acting like he hadn’t almost pissed his pants in front of the emperor minutes ago. He shirked away from Lance, earning a grunt of disapproval.

“Ah, perhaps it is best for your consort to come with us. He isn’t wrong about the two of you being a, well, ‘package deal.’” Allura chuckled. Keith winced at hearing the word ‘consort’ for the first time, reminding him of his bond with this imperfect stranger.

_Ugh._

Lance smirked in satisfaction, and Keith began to ponder if being executed was favorable to spending the rest of his life bound to such an irritating person.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lance had stars in his eyes as they entered the Princess’ quarters, fully drinking in the lavish aura of royalty. The room was overly large for Keith’s tastes, leaving an excess of well-decorated empty space. The walls were adorned with elegant carvings that showcased architectural genius, clearly sparing no expense for beauty, accompanied by stained glass windows overlooking the glittering lake surrounding the Castle. It was breathtaking, but Keith had all else on his mind.

He merely crossed his arms defensively, nerves still buzzing from the trial. Allura obliged his impatience as she dismissed her servants, giving them full privacy. The doors clicked shut, and Allura breathed a heavy sigh, thick with burden.

“Now, then…” She began. “I’ll admit I have some questions of my own.” She turned to Keith, giving him a wary expression for the first time.

“First,” Keith interjected. “Where is Pidge?” He questioned. He needed to know before they got into the heavier stuff, as her disappearance had been nagging at his mind ever since he realized he wasn’t going to die. Not yet, at least.

“I beg your pardon?” The princess blinked in confusion before realization hit her. “Oh! You mean your companion? I do remember seeing a third person, now that you mention it. However…” She seemed at a loss. “Come to think of it, only the two of you were captured.”

Keith wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or not. It seems she may have slipped away during the chaos somehow, but Pidge was an ordinary human running about in the Castle of Mages. He felt unsettled, but took solace in the fact that she was at least not being held captive by Zarkon. His concern was pushed to the back of his mind as Allura changed the subject.

“As for my questions, the first is simple. How should I address you?” She politely requested.

“Ah, my name?” She nodded, and Keith felt foolish for asking. “Uh, it’s Keith.”

He could never have imagined that the Princess of Altea would one day know him by name. He was almost sure he was dreaming, at this point.

“And I’m Lance!” An overly enthusiastic voice cut between them, as he rejoined Keith’s side, closer than he would appreciate. Lance bowed. “Thank you so much for saving us, Princess. How can I-, I mean _we_ , ever repay you?” His voice dropped to a courtly rhythm that irked Keith to his core.

“Keith, Lance, I ask only that you would pledge your loyalty to me when the time comes.” The princess took on a foreboding tone. The two of them simply nodded in favor, perhaps unsure of what they were agreeing to. The princess gave a wary smile, regardless.

“Ok, my turn.” Lance brought the mood back with his cheery tone. “Why did you save us, exactly?” Keith was surprised to hear a valid question from his mouth.

“That’s…” Allura searched Keith’s face for understanding, but he could provide her with none. She reached into the folds of her dress, before presenting a familiar object.

“My blade!” Keith forgot his manners as he swiped the blade away from the princess, inspecting it. She remained unoffended, collecting her thoughts before speaking again.

“Keith, tell me… _Do you know of the world beyond the stars?_ ” She stared expectantly at him, but he only tilted his head in response.

“Is that… A line from a poem or something?” He was lost. Allura seemed surprised by his response, almost disappointed.

“Yes. Nevermind it.” Allura shook her head of the whatever thoughts she held. “I have no further questions, but please, feel free to ask yours.”

“Ok, my turn again!” Lance immediately piped up.

“You skipped me…” Keith brooded, but Lance paid it no mind.

“What was all that stuff about in the court? I couldn’t follow it at all. I don’t even know why I’m alive right now, and it’s kinda frustrating.” Lance sighed.

Allura pondered his question. “I see. You must be new to the Castle, then. I’ll explain; the two of you have bound yourselves through the mage’s pact. As you both know, a paladin and a cleric must form a bond in order to access magical energy. However, you may not know that the bond you have formed will last you the rest of your lives.” Keith spared a glance at his new consort, unsure how to feel. “That being said, if death were to fall upon your other half, magic would never be possible for you to use again. If Keith had been executed, Lance would’ve lost his abilities.” Allura’s gaze fell to the floor.

“I don’t agree with it, but there is a rule pertaining to mages who have lost their powers.” Allua continued earnestly, “They must be executed. The knowledge held inside the Castle is not meant for the outside world. It is sacred. That is why mages are meant to live out their lives here. If a mage can no longer serve their kingdom, they must be cast out. Since returning to the outside is not an option for them… they are killed.”

_Returning to the outside world… Is no longer possible?_

“Wow… I never knew any of that. I guess it is a well-kept secret, after all… Still, that seems way too harsh.” Lance pondered to himself.

“That’s just the nature of mages. If we aren’t useful, we’ll be tossed away.” Keith plainly stated. Allura shifted uncomfortable, clearing her throat.

“Anyways, I think the two of you ought to rest. You should be feeling heavy onsets of fatigue from your newly forged bond over the next twenty-four hours or so.” Allura advised, and both boys instantly reacted to the words.

“Oh yeah! Now that you mention it, I was sleeping like a baby earlier. I could… Definitely go for a nap again…” Lance yawned, instantly feeling the effects.

The stressful trial had him wide awake, but now that the worst was over, he felt weighed down once again. Lance’s yawn turned contagious, and Keith’s eyes grew teary. A comfortable warmth replaced all the confusion and havoc of earlier, and all his remaining questions became lost in his newfound quest for sleep.

Keith began to tune out his surroundings, aching for a place to lie down. His life had just been irreversibly changed forever, and all he could think about was the cool side of a pillow. Allura let out a pleasant chuckle and said something about showing them to their rooms.

_That’s right, I guess I’m a student here now…_

Everything after that tired thought became a blur.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @ http://vriskabby.tumblr.com/
> 
> <3


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